


À La Carte

by Galahard



Series: La Cuisine [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, Hartwin is not the focus, M/M, Mostly this is just focusing on Eggsy career wise post Bon Appetit, Sequel, There is a slight chance this fic will make you hungry, cooking au, read responsibly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Bon Appetit, set 2.5-3 years later. This fic focuses on Eggsy's career when he finally finishes culinary school at Kingsman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Mise en Place

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the Bon Appetit sequel! Fair warning: this fic doesn’t focus on Hartwin (and as per Bon Appetit they have an established relationship in this), though Hartwin will be present. The first part of this is mostly to just catch up to the current point, and there will be approximately six chapters total, including this one. Hopefully this will explain why I chose this particular route for Eggsy!
> 
> Also I totally just used this to explore a few more characters I didn't really get to work with a lot in Bon Appetit :D

“So, we really going to do this?” Eggsy looked over his beer at Roxy, watching her knock back another shot of whisky like it was nothing before setting the glass down with a small clink of glass.

“I talked to my parents about it last night,” was her reply, face fairly straight. “They had a lot to say actually. I didn’t expect them to be so opinionated.”

“Yeah?” It was hard to read her, and she wasn’t exactly volunteering up any information. “Stop fucking around Roxy,” he finally snapped, nerves getting the best of him. “What’d they say?”

“They think,” she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “They think it’s brilliant.” She grinned at him while he swore, her smile only getting wider as she spoke. “Actually they said that they’d like to formally hire us to cook for a dinner party they’re throwing in a couple of weeks. Give us a chance to work out some details and if things go well we could wind up with clients from the party. They know a ridiculous amount of people you know, and several people there will be some of his colleagues from the House of Lords.”

He raised his glass in a silent toast before taking another long swallow. “That’s fucking amazing,” he admitted. 

“What’s even better is that after last time they actually had someone ask who their caterer was. So people may already have interest in hiring us. Not that we can do much for the next few months, but it would certainly help to have existing clients when we’re ready to get this thing off the ground.”

He tipped his glass back, finishing the final swallow before standing. “Pretty sure this calls for another drink,” he told her with a wink, moving toward the bar.

\-----------

The catering thing hadn’t been planned, not really. It had started with Saturday brunches with Roxy’s parents, and then on weeks when they had class on Saturday sometimes they’d switch days or mealtimes. Then one day there’d been a couple of guests at the Morton’s house and her parents decided that if they wanted the experience cooking for others they could cook.

That was it. Casually cooking for her parents and their friends was all it really took. Well, that and the realization that if he went to be a chef at an actual restaurant he was looking at hellishly long hours, which took away from his time with his family. His mum would understand and Harry would support him, but Dee? Dee was used to having him around. He couldn’t commit to being gone from right after breakfast until probably eleven or midnight every day that he worked. That shit wasn’t for him.

When he’d told Roxy as much, she’d agreed. Cooking was more than a hobby to her as well, but the hours for a job at a nice restaurant weren’t something she wanted to commit to. Plus, she wasn’t exactly hurting for money, but she also wasn’t the type to just kick back and do nothing. 

Plus, the two of them together? Fucking meant to be. A dream he’d never considered a few years ago all falling into place, easier than if he’d planned it, and they genuinely enjoyed cooking together. 

Once they’d sorted out some minor details, such as what items would keep and reheat well versus things they liked to have fresh and that Eggsy was shit at dealing with customers (most of that task would fall on Roxy’s shoulders), all that was left was needing a place big enough to cook for more than just a few people.

Obviously the first place they’d applied was at (several) banks, the best reaction to their proposal being a smile as a particularly nice banker informed them that their loan had not been approved. A pair of kids that hadn’t really held down a job before trying to open a catering business wasn’t too impressive apparently.

Roxy had actually had that audacity to ask Chester, proposing that they link their catering company with Kingsman which would both broaden the services that they offered and provide extra income in the form of a percentage of the fees they collected. There was typically at least one classroom that was not in use at any given time, and they wouldn’t require too much in the way of storage. It made sense, the equipment already there for them, a way to showcase the finesse and elite abilities of Kingsman graduates.

Chester had always looked at him as if he was a piece of gum smeared on bottom of his shoe, and so the rejection was nothing shocking, nothing unexpected really.

The only place that left them with was Roxy’s too-small-for-a-party kitchen with rejections from everyone else, a problem they would have to solve sooner rather than later. 

It wasn’t like he was keeping their plans a secret from Harry. No, Harry knew and was supportive of their catering endeavor. Then again he’d told him while he was riding him, which was bound to get him a favourable reaction. But him and his family already relied on Harry too much as it was, so with this catering idea they tried to make it work without Harry’s help, without the Morton’s just lending (or giving) them the money. 

\------------

At the end of the day it was nice to have things that didn’t change. He’d never have thought that he enjoyed doing dishes, but that was before it became part of his routine. Quiet conversations held to the noise of running water as he plunged his hands into warm water and rinsed off plates and eating utensils before handing them off to Harry to dry was something he actually looked forward to.

Somewhat less so when Harry asked him how things were going, when he knew that the answer was shitty. “Still working on how it’ll all work out,” he admitted, handing over a serving spoon before grabbing a bowl out of the water. “Roxy’s has got the counter space but we need another oven, and probably another stove, and that just ain’t going to work over there.”

“You could use ours in a pinch, but with the distance it would be difficult.” There was silence for a moment, but he’d been with Harry long enough to know that the older man was mulling something over, letting a thought stew in his mind.

“Merlin,” he said, voice oddly careful, “said that you and Roxy had a meeting with Chester recently.”

He should have known Harry would find out, and while his shoulders hunched up a bit defensively he was able to force them back down, hoping Harry hadn’t noticed. “Yeah, ain’t nothing there.”

“I could speak with him,” Harry offered, and while Eggsy knew it was because he cared, he was simply trying to help, he still shook his head. 

“Thanks but no thanks. We’re going to try this one on our own first.”

He knew that Harry was stopping himself from saying more, the silence not quite comfortable for a moment while they worked through the remaining dishes. Then Harry spoke again. “If you ever require my assistance, I’m here for you. You have only to say the word.”

Eggsy bumped him with his hip, glancing over to give him a fond smile before reaching down to pull the drain and let the rest of the water swirl out. “I know.”

\-----------

They were completing the final month of their expert level course, their supplemental wine pairing class having ended the week before, when the news raced through their classmates. Chester King was dead. An untreated case of salmonella poisoning and one of the greatest British chefs was dead.

The last couple of weeks were hectic, chefs being pulled to pick up other courses, Harry having to find someone to teach their class a couple of times as he took care of some of the legalities of Chester passing away. He came home late enough several times that Dee was already asleep, and Eggsy could see how it bothered him, how he brought her home flowers when he could and insisted that Deanna should be allowed to stay up an extra thirty minutes because he was the reason they’d started their movie night as late as he had.

He’d even sung along to Let it Go, grudgingly having learned all the lyrics from seeing the movie so many times, and Eggsy had kissed him breathless the moment they were alone together.

Still, he was surprised to be summoned to Harry’s office one day to find Merlin and Roxy already there, arguing over the best way to prepare beef tongue of all things.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Harry started without even waiting for him to get to a seat. “Merlin and I have temporarily been put in charge until there can be a formal meeting of the board, and we’re taking this opportunity to do something we would have liked to have done several months ago. We want you to open up your catering company.”

Merlin glanced up from his clipboard. “It’s a good opportunity to see how a branch like this would function within our company, and the two of you would be perfect. Harry’s obviously biased towards the matter so he asked me to evaluate the proposal. You’re both extremely talented, and I’ll be blunt, Eggsy’s cooking is often genius. However, Roxy is an excellent chef in her own rights, and level-headed as well, which is crucial in dealing with customers. Together I believe your business can be a success.”

“Thank you, I think,” Roxy said, glancing over at Eggsy while clearly trying to hold back her excitement.

“Fuck yeah,” was all he could think of to say, grinning at her and then glancing over at Harry, letting their eyes meet long enough to make promises that he couldn’t possibly say in front of Merlin or Roxy without scarring them.

“Now we’ll need to discuss the details of course. Resources, finances, what integration here at the school will look like, and I’ve drawn up a list of ideas. Let’s start with expectations first, as you’ll be representing Kingsman.”


	2. La Recommandation du Chef

Cooking with Roxy wasn’t as seamless as it was with Harry, but they were getting there. He still had to ask for the balsamic just out of his reach when he needed it, and she had grumbled when she’d turned and he’d been in her way. They settled in well enough though, after all they’d spent almost three years working at the same station in all of the classes that they shared.

Not many of their classes had had them making up large quantities of something. It was a waste of resources, so unless they were specifically working with a roast or other large cut of something, most of their dishes had been to serve two to four people. For their brunches they typically cooked for four, at home they were often cooking for four, sometimes purposefully cooking extra for leftovers. Cooking for a dinner party of twenty people was quite different.

Their first couple of attempts at her parents, before they’d ever been hired, proved to be invaluable. He’d learned the gloriousness of soups and salads, made early and ready to go as soon as they added the dressing or added the garnish to a bowl. Desserts were also nice, there was time during the entrée to plate them, to whip up something fresh that would give it that extra spark to make it extraordinary, like hand beat whipped cream or a freshly melted chocolate drizzle.

And they practiced at Kingsman, making up dishes and letting them sit for a couple of hours in different methods of storage to see what worked, how something would need to be heated up, what would dry out before they ever put it on a plate.

Those were all the things he kept reminding himself of as he worked on the stuffing for his quail. Thankfully this job had ordered both soup and salad, a five-course meal, so they were going for a lighter main, only one quail per person. Considering he’d been here for hours, starting dried figs and sliced shallots soaking in port before he’d started prepping any of the other ingredients, it needed to work.

His chicken livers that he’d seared off had cooled while he’d reduced the port and figs in the same pan that he’d cooked them in, setting that aside to try to get it to cool while he’d checked on the soup helped Roxy with the meyer lemon crème brûlée, making sure they had not one but two torches packed and both had plenty of fuel.

Then it was back to work on the filling, removing the figs and shallots before combining the port reduction with the finely chopped liver and some ground pork. For seasoning there was a healthy amount of both salt and pepper as well as cinnamon. 

After he mixed it with his hands, trying not to make the meat too dense, all went to the fridge to keep cool while he blanched his spinach.

Making four of these wasn’t bad but, as he laid out the leaves to make the small circles he needed, he was starting to regret the dish. Twenty. What the fuck was he thinking. But as he worked there was a certain rhythm to it, a cadence that was soothing as Roxy put her music on shuffle and they laughed and danced in place while they worked.

Eggsy pulled the mixture out from the fridge and thinly wrapped a portion around a whole fig, placing it on one of the small circle of leaves while Roxy told him a story about one of the men that was going to be at the party. It was relaxing as he rolled up the meat and fig in the spinach, then wound a strip of prosciutto around the leaves.

The last ten weren’t nearly so relaxing, and he could tell by the way that Roxy was falling silent, anxiously checking the crème brûlées, that she was feeling the crunch of time. So instead of him helping she wound up loading the car herself as he sliced open the tenderloin of the quail, pushing in the filling and then wrapping aluminum strips around the birds before crossing their little legs and nestling them in a pan to make the trip to the house the party was at.

It was tense getting everything to the car, but once they were there, driving through fairly light traffic for London, he breathed out a sigh of relief. They certainly weren’t in the clear yet, but they were getting there.

“You need me to help with the appetizers?”

“Yes, and the serving. But I should be able to manage plating the salad and the soup on my own, so between helping me serve those courses hopefully there will be time to sear off all the quail?”

“Yeah, we’ve just got to get them in the bloody oven before we serve the soup. They only need fifteen minutes but we’ll still have to plate. You got the duck fat, yeah?”

“I brought extra just in case.”

They made it to the flat five minutes earlier than they’d hoped, Roxy shaking hands and talking to their clients while he dashed madly between the car and the kitchen while trying to seem nonchalant. They had a trio of prawns on creamy polenta to make for their appetizer, there was no time to waste.

\-------------

“Oh shit.”

Eggsy was already heading over to the stove to work on searing off his quail, so he turned on the heat before turning to her. “What is it?”

“Did you see who was at the table?” Roxy hissed, casting a glance toward the dining room, and they were lucky the dining room was closed off for privacy's sake.

“Looked like a lot of posh gits to me,” he admitted with a shrug as he spooned duck fat into the pan, needing it to add a lovely golden colour to his birds. “Honestly I didn’t pay much attention, I was just trying to hurry so I could get back here to finish this up.”

“So you didn’t notice Chef Spencer or Chef MacIntosh?” She sounded exasperated, and he winced slightly. Yeah, those were two posh gits he probably should have recognized.

“I didn’t realize they’d be here.”

“Well now everything has to be perfect. Oh god, if they think something’s horrible then that’s it. They’re part of Kingsman, they could actually have us shut down.”

“Rox, come on, our food’s bril, yeah? So finish plating those salads, it ain’t going to take them long to finish the appetizer.” He could tell she was still tense as he finished searing off the first batch of quail, moving them to a pan to bake before going out to help pick up the dishes from the appetizer.

There was actually a compliment murmured to him, and as he brought out the salads, Roxy explaining the dish to the party before helping him, there was a bit of a smile on his face.

Then it was back to the stove to sear off a couple more batches of quail.

\-----------

Roxy breathed out a sigh of relief and then grinned at him. They’d just taken out the last of the crème brûlées, and all there was to do was clean up, which in and of itself was going to be a decent task. But it had worked. They’d had several more compliments as the night went on, and so far no one was screaming from the dessert.

They were working on their other dishes and waiting for the signal to go gather the dessert dishes when they heard the door to the dining room open. He turned off the water in the sink, drying his hands on a towel Roxy offered him, and they were about to go get the dishes only to find that it was Chef MacIntosh standing there, rather than the hostess.

“Ms. Morton, Mr. Unwin.” He nodded to each of them in turn, and Eggsy knew better than to try to get a read on him. Harry had taken him to _Percival’s_ once, it’s sleek, minimalistic look yet incredibly complex dishes taking him entirely by surprise with each bite. So he wasn’t going to underestimate the man, but he didn’t know what to make of him either.

“Good evening Chef MacIntosh,” Roxy offered, and he shook his head.

“Please use my first name, Alastair. We all work for Kingsman now, do we not?”

He could see a bit of tension leeching out of Roxy’s shoulders. As strong as she was at the end of the day, she still worried. At the end of the day it was more about failing herself than failing others, but a chef like Alastair could probably shake anyone’s confidence. He was just too damn hard to read.

“Yes, Chef Alastair,” she offered. 

“You need something?” Eggsy asked, Roxy nudging his ankle sharply, but he wasn’t prepared to wait all day to see what the man wanted.

If anything the chef seemed amused. “Simply to tell you that both James and I felt that you did Kingsman proud today, adding the basil to the whipped cream was a delightful surprise to the end of a very good meal. We were uncertain when Harry and Merlin tried to sell us on the idea, catering is not an easy business and it’s not a secret how--invested in Eggsy Harry is, but after today you can both rest assured that we’ll recommend you for any and all catering jobs that come our way. We do get asked, though I’ll admit those requests are infrequent, and catering doesn’t fit well with our schedules. I’m sure James will want to tell you as much himself, but I believe he’s trying to convince our host to let him demonstrate his firebreathing techniques.”

There was a surprising hint of fondness mixed with exasperation at the end, a hint of emotion from the strictly business-minded man in front of them, and Eggsy took a split second to consider that before there was a sudden motion from beside him.

He looked on in surprise as Roxy wrapped her arms around the man, giving him a hug. The chef looked about as shocked as Eggsy felt, but after a second he reached up to pat her on the back. “I’d best get back before he really does manage to set the place on fire,” he mentioned as Roxy stepped away, a look of pure relief on her face.

“Thank you sir,” she managed, as if she hadn’t just put a crease in the man’s suit, and she managed to wait until the door was closed to fling her arms around him as well.

“We did it, Eggsy. We actually did it!”

He grinned they made their way back to the kitchen, for once not even bothered about the pile of dishes he knew awaited them. “Fuck yeah we did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not had this, but I watched a video of him making it and the quail were so cute!
> 
> http://www.dartagnan.com/roasted-quail-stuffed-with-fig-and-prosciutto-recipe.html


	3. Rendez-vous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Holiday weekends tend to do that but there should be some frequent updates this week because my ultimate goal is to get this all finished/posted before I leave for the lake on Friday. Then there will be a week and a half of "maybe new things" or just a writing break as I'll be at the lake and working Tokyo in Tulsa the next weekend. 
> 
> Or, you know, I'll write more than ever. Who knows! Wifi is up in the air though, so even if I write I might just have phone access.

It wasn’t like they were always busy, but their weekends were full more often than not, and they typically had a weeknight or two scattered about where they might be doing a smaller setting. They’d talked about making meals that people could just drop by to get for dinner, but honestly it would take up too much of their time. Having three stuffed days, and often a fourth or fifth that they worked for smaller things or just in prep work, was enough for him. He’d seen the forlorn looks Deanna got when she realized he’d be gone the entire day, and it wasn’t something he wanted to promote.

Of course there were the hidden hours. Roxy had more of those than he did, because she was the one the customers contacted. She’d discuss the basics with them over the phone, and then to make up for it he’d draw up suggested menus and fuss around with recipes, trying to figure out things that would work best for catering.

Because it wasn’t like they were doing typical catering. No, their dishes and their clients were all falling on the high-end range, convenient gourmet meals for the people that would rather pay than get their hands dirty in the kitchen.

At least it meant they could afford the ingredients.

Still, he was making the most of his time that he had, and a Saturday with no catering plans was actually exciting. Sure, it had only been a few months since they’d gotten started, and perhaps he should have been worried about not having income that week, but it meant that his mum was off work and he’d actually get to see her. Sadly Harry had a class, a look of real apology on his face that Eggsy had managed to kiss away before he went out in public looking less than his best.

So him and his mum had decided to take Deanna to a park, where they’d been for almost an hour before his mobile rang. “Morning, boss.”

“Hello,” Roxy said quickly, barely giving the greeting a hint of notice before charging into the conversation. “Are you free this afternoon? We had a customer call that wants to cater a wedding, but they’d like to meet us in person and discuss options and didn’t want to drag it all out over the phone. Plus they want to see pictures and the like.”

“Did you show them the website? Ain’t that enough?”

“Not for them. Honestly it seems ridiculous to me to meet up this early when we’re just talking basic options, normally we don’t meet with someone until we’re doing some taste-testings and laying out a menu, but this could be a big deal. They even tossed around the idea of having the rehearsal dinner catered as well.”

“When do you need me?” There was a hint of resignation in his voice, the idea of a free Saturday moving out of his reach, but it wasn’t Roxy’s fault and he didn’t blame her. “Well, they want to meet at 3:00, so I’ll need you at my house by 2:30. Oh, I should take them something shouldn’t I? To sell our food? Something basic, but it can’t be too basic. Then they’ll think our food is simple. Shit, maybe I can whip up a cake? But I don’t think they were planning on using us for a cake so that wouldn’t be a good example.”

“Rox?” He cut in, waiting until she stopped talking half to herself, though a smile was growing on his face. “Lets just do something simple, like chocolate covered strawberries. They’re easy, everyone loves them, and you can show off a few of your piping skills. I’ll come over at 1:00 and help you with them, yeah? That’ll give them time to chill before we need to leave.”

He looked over to where Deanna was playing, knowing she’d be upset when he explained that they’d have to leave early so he could fix them lunch before he had to go, absentmindedly telling Roxy bye before glancing over at his mum and seeing her offer him an understanding smile. Well, it was better to be busy than nothing.

\----------

Chocolate strawberries were simple enough that he could basically make them in his sleep, but Roxy always managed to elevate them to the next level, even if they only used a couple of different colours of chocolate. Sure, they were basic in theory, but it showed what they did. They took things and made them unique. Their customers wouldn’t just be getting something they could pick up at the grocers.

So it was armed with a dozen of them, a few with more abstract designs and drizzles, some with little tuxedos, and of course the one with the obligatory wedding dress, that they made it to the house. 

If it could be called that. It was a fucking mansion really, all gated in with a gravel drive because apparently that was what these old houses had. Actually it wasn’t all that far away, and if anything that made it more impressive. This size of a house actually in London, with a proper garden?

Maybe he could sell them on some of the more expensive things he rarely got to work with.

The guard at the gate had quizzed them down over having an appointment, and the entire way up to the front door Roxy rolled her eyes, explaining that Lord Hesketh barely made the bottom of the list to be in line for the throne and wasn’t all that important of a noble, mostly known for attending every party he could swing an invitation to. 

However, by the time the front door swung open she had a cheerful smile on her face. “Good afternoon, we have an appointment with Lady Hesketh.”

He tried not to shift too much, grateful that wearing a chef’s jacket substituted for dressing up. Sure, the thing was still more awkward than just wearing a polo and a jacket, but it would do, and looked nice enough. They looked better on Harry of course, but he could pull it off when he needed to.

“Right this way please,” the man who’d opened the door stepped aside, ushering them in before leading them to a small but opulently decorated parlor, telling them to have a seat.

After five minutes had gone by Roxy rolled her eyes, leaning over to whisper. “This bit is to let us know how important they are.”

“Figures,” he muttered, and they were forced to wait several more minutes before the doors finally opened.

The woman that swept in was pretty much as he expected, and following her, texting, was a young woman probably close to their age or a couple of years older. “Thank you for making it here on such short notice,” the woman simpered, holding out a hand. “I needed an excuse to not attend a garden party.” She tittered, holding a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear, I shouldn’t have said that. Now then, you must be Miss Morton of course, and you’re her--partner?”

“Eggsy Unwin,” he said, holding out a hand and staring down when she placed her fingertips in his, obviously not expecting him to shake it.

“Eggsy, what an unusual name.” She was smirking when he just squeezed her fingertips and let her hand droop. “Now then, I’ve heard some very pleasant things about your little catering company, so lets have a chat, shall we? Olivia, put your mobile away and come have a seat.”

She smiled, and Roxy smiled back, Eggsy just tried to keep a straight face. This. This was the sort of customer that they dealt with, and Roxy was a fucking saint. “Thank you for considering Kingsman Catering, Lady Hesketh. We’ve brought along a little treat to thank you for inviting us over.”

Roxy glanced at him expectantly and he stood to hand the Lady the box, hastily sitting back down before she could think of anything else. “Oh, these are simply darling. Just look at them, Olivia.”

She set the box aside with a smile on her face, but now there was a touch of interest as well. “Now then, I know all about Kingsman already, but not about the catering services they offered. I understand that you’re both graduates?”

“Yes ma’am. We’ve both taken a range of courses from Kingsman and went through the upper levels.”

“Marvelous. Marvelous. Now then, we’re looking at a rather small guest list I’m afraid, only three hundred or so. Plus the rehearsal dinner the night before. For that the groom’s parents would of course be involved. We’ll want a tasting of course, to set the menu. Surely you can pencil us in next week?”

She spoke so casually that she was almost able to make him gloss over all the important things she was actually saying. Three hundred guests. A tasting the next week. Multiple nights in the same weekend.

“We may be able to, I’d have to look at my calendar,” Roxy replied, pulling out a planner even though he knew damn well that they didn’t have anything during the week. “Oh, Monday simply won’t do, and Tuesday afternoon would be fairly tight. I think we could manage Wednesday? I can shift around our plans that day.”

She looked so distraught as she ticked off the first couple of days that he almost believed her himself, reminding himself to tell her how spot on she was later. “Oh, Wednesday. We have your dress fitting that morning, don’t we darling. I suppose we could make the afternoon work. 2:00?”

“Shall we meet here or at Kingsman?” Roxy smiled at her winningly, a pen seeming to just appear as she held it above the page.

“Oh my, I would love to see Kingsman, wouldn’t you?” She glanced over at her daughter, tittering when she saw Olivia had her phone out again.

“Kingsman it is,” Roxy said smoothly. “Now then, what sort of food were you considering? Hors d'oeuvres? Full meals? Were you looking for any other desserts to accompany the cake?”

“For the rehearsal dinner a full meal of course, though I’m sure James’ mother will want some say in that. For the reception I think an assortment of hors d’oeuvres would be quite nice, don’t you agree? We’ll want a large selection of course, no one should go wanting. So perhaps something filling. Absolutely nothing with peanuts though, our poor Olivia here is quite allergic.”

He tried to just sit there was a straight face, mouth dropping open slightly as he listened to her, once again reminding himself there was a reason Roxy took care of this sort of thing. If she wanted to fill people up she should just go for a meal and be done with it. 

“Of course, Lady Hesketh. We’ll look at some ideas for when you come to visit on Wednesday. Now then, I’ve brought along a few pictures for you to take a look at, unfortunately a few were taken on my phone. If you could just let us know if there’s anything in particular you’d like to know more about we’d be happy to explain. This first batch will be for hors d’oeuvres.”

\------------

He drained the last of his tea and tried not to look at his watch, the semi-darkness outside confirming that they’d been here for hours. His stomach gnawed at him, informing him that by now he should have had a light snack at some point, and probably be cooking dinner with Harry. Or not. They had reservations tonight, and he finally did look at his watch, trying not to breath a sigh relief when he noticed it was only 6:30 and they still had an hour, then trying to hide his panic when he realized he was still wearing a chef’s jacket, and they only had an hour.

Thankfully they were wrapping up, Roxy and Lady Hesketh now discussing a few preliminary numbers. It had probably been good that he was here, he’d explained as many of the dishes in the pictures as she had, but it was well past time for them to be gone.

“I hate to be rude,” he said, trying to sound apologetic and probably missing his mark, “but there is a prior engagement we need to leave for.” Roxy looked more relieved than anything else, probably happy for the out, but he tried not to focus on that. “If you think of anymore questions you just let us know, yeah? We’ll get to them on Wednesday.”

“Of course, of course. If I think of anything else I’ll be sure to call.” They stood, and it still took five minutes before she stood, ushering them out of the room.

As they stepped into the hall they were met with a “Good evening Mother,” from a familiar voice and Eggsy’s head snapped up when he heard the following chuckle. “And look who it is. Here selling candy bars for charity? I suppose the charity is your family though, isn’t that right Eggy.”

“Oh Charles,” his mother simpered, patting him on the arm. “Always so quick with a joke. These two are your sister’s caterers of course, they come from that lovely school you went to. But it sounds as if you know them.”

“Chef Hart’s star pupils,” he told his mother, but when he looked up his lips were curled into a smirk.

Eggsy started to open his mouth but Roxy wrapped her fingers around his arm, tightening her grip. “I really am afraid we must be going,” she insisted. “Lovely to see you again Charlie.”

They were out the door and partway down the gravel drive before she loosened her grip. “I’m not sure about this one,” she admitted when she knew they were out of hearing range. “We might have bitten off a good deal more than we can chew.”

“If she think’s Charlie’s an okay git I’m pretty sure we can manage her,” her offered. “Not that I really want to, but it’ll be good for us, won’t it? Big event, lots of posh types? 

“The publicity is excellent,” she admitted, “though how we’re going to manage for that many people is beyond me. 

“Well, we’d talked about recruiting some of the students for prep work, might have get a few more hands than we thought we needed is all. We’ll get this sorted, Rox, we always do.”


	4. La Dégustation

Cooking for a tasting wasn't a huge deal. They only had to make a single serving since their customers would just be trying a bite or two of the dish (though sometimes it was just as convenient to make more), and it wasn't like they had to make everything. Just a few highlights, and of course Roxy had seen to it that tastings had a cost as well as anything else.

But they still had to draw up lists of possible dishes, meal options for the night before (with the necessary vegetarian options, other dietary restrictions upon request). Sure, they had a bit of a catalog, but they had to scrap a few dishes from the options (that many stuffed quail would be excruciating) and put in a few recipes they decided to add based on their client.

Tuesday he was home alone with Dee, Harry teaching and his Mum at work, when Roxy stopped by with her binders and recipe cards. It took hours of their afternoon to sort through it all, then they had to make the list of things they'd need for the tasting, stopping only when it was time to make dinner. It wasn't until afterwards, when he went to go try to interest Deanna in a game, that he found out she was upset, apparently at him.

“Come on Dee, you love Candy Land. You was saying you wanted to play it the other day. You can have first choice for your piece.” He knew his voice had taken on a pleading edge but still she seemed put off, looking at him a bit suspiciously.

“We was going to play it today,” she finally said, and finally he knew the reason she was pouting. 

“Were,” Harry corrected absentmindedly from his chair, not bothering to look up from his planner that he used for his classes. He apparently didn’t give a shit if Eggsy talked proper like, but he had determined that Deanna wasn’t a lost cause.

“I know,” he said, breathing out in frustration. “I meant to, honest. It’s just that I had to work with Roxy see? Last minute stuff for these posh types, yeah? Sorry I had to leave you alone so much, you was playing so good by yourself.”

“Were.” This time the correction came from Deanna herself, and Eggsy pulled a face, rolling his eyes when Harry failed to hide a chuckle.

“Fine,” she finally agreed, “but only if Uncle Harry plays too. He gets to be blue.”

“If I get to be blue of course I’ll play,” Harry set aside his planned after jotting one last thing. “But only if Eggsy picks up when we’re done.”

“Hey wait! The loser has to pick up!”

“Looks like you’ll be cleaning up either way then,” Harry smirked, and he gave him an affronted look.

“Oh you’re on. Both of you. Since when did you start teaming up on me? Dee, I thought you was on my side!”

“Uncle Harry’s side!” She giggled as she tried to avoid him when he reached out, tickling her sides until she shrieked with laughter. 

\-----------

Unfortunately the next day was even more hectic. He was in charge of going to the butcher, Roxy to the grocers, and at least he managed to make it a bit of an outing with Harry and Dee. He had to leave them there to head straight to Kingsman, but not before talking Harry into a rather magnificent cut of beef tenderloin for their own dinner.

At least he hadn’t had to get up early to get fish, Roxy had managed that, and by the time he arrived she was already starting up a marinade for one of the dishes. 

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” Her voice was teasing but he still glanced at his phone. Three minutes to spare.

“Figured it was bloody time you did some work,” he offered back, glancing over to see Roxy roll her eyes but a smile tugging at her lips.

“I was thinking more this morning about the lamb lollipops we made with Chef Merlin, where you went above and beyond and made three dips for them? I didn’t have you pick up lamb because they really need a while to marinade, but I may talk them up when they’re selecting dishes.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad option,” he agreed as he tied on an apron and went to wash his hands, speaking up over the running water. “All the dips can be made in advance, the options means it’ll go over with people that’d turn their fucking nose up at one dip or another, and we can just cook them to slightly under and leave them to warm and finish in an oven.”

“Precisely. Now I’ll take care of the kebabs and a couple of scone options for today, and I’ll whip up a batch of lemonade to serve as well.”

“I see how it is,” he said, giving her a pointed look. “You’re letting me take care of the fish, mushroom tartlets, filled Yorkshire puddings, and a tray of whatever canapes I can come up with?” Mostly he gave her the look because he knew she’d expect little works of art with every item on that tray, and that wasn’t his forte. Sure, at Harry’s advice he’d taken that damn plating class with Chester, but that shit wasn’t his calling.

“Come off it, we froze a batch of puff pastry just a couple of weeks ago, those tarts won’t take any time at all. And those Yorkshire puddings can be done early and will just need to be stuffed toward the end.”

“Like it’s that fucking easy,” he groused, setting aside her chicken and keeping the beef and freshly ground sausage for himself, still not sure what to use it for as Roxy started taking the groceries out that she needed and he went to put the puff pastry in the fridge to start defrosting.

But really it was fairly easy. He know how much time the fish and mushroom caps would take, the beef needed to be cool so it could be seared off early and he could shave it when the time came. The Yorkshire puddings could be made well in advance. So what he had to do now was make up the different spreads to be pieced together at the end.

He started with something simple, a dish they could make a day in advance if necessary. In truth he was making a much bigger batch of salmon mousse than they needed, but Merlin would be more than happy to take some off of their hands. It was a simple manner of combining smoked salmon and cream cheese, a one to two ratio, then there was the lemon, cayenne, and of course salt and pepper.

He was scraping the mixture out of the food processor and into a piping bag with a bit of cling wrap on the end so he could just store it that way when he asked something that had been nagging at the back of his mind while he worked. “So did you get dill?”

“Of course.”

“Of course because it’s dill or of course because you knew I’d make salmon mousse?”

“I also picked up a bit of salmon roe,” she confessed as she whisked up her marinade. “Really, I put smoked salmon and cream cheese right next to each other on your counter, what else would you do with it?”

“Mind telling me what other things you planned on me making? Might make things a bit easier for me.”

“I’m not doing half your work for you,” she insisted. “Oh wait a minute, I suppose I already have.”

He snorted as he stared at his ingredients that he hadn’t set aside for other dishes. Something vegetarian of course, a couple of those probably, and then something to do with that sausage. There was always the option of a sausage roll since they already had puff pastry, and they could actually make them up and freeze them days before the party instead.

“So what do you think about the idea of these noble types eating something like a sausage roll?”

“Definitely not.” Roxy’s words were decisive and he found himself nodding, knowing he should have expected it. “But a sausage bite? With a bit of herb nonsense with it? They’d devour them.”

“Should’ve known,” he muttered at the same time as he began looking for the dijon and an onion to start making the filling with.

\-----------

If he’d thought the other day was bad it was nothing compared to this torture.

They’d been there for an hour, the mothers apparently in some sort of riff and harping at each other’s choices, the bride and groom mostly distracted, the groom really only paying attention when food was actually set in front of him.

“Oh dear, this salmon simply won’t do, won’t do at all.” 

“It’s delightful,” Lady Hesketh insisted, finishing her medallion of cucumber as if to prove her point.

“Is it too spicy for you?” Roxy asked, because forty-five minutes ago they’d discovered that anything with flavour tended to be spicy for the woman.

“Of course not,” was the snapped reply. “But look at the colour! Pink, when my darling boy’s wedding colours are burgundy and gold. That simply won’t do!”

He couldn’t help but think of several more of the recipes she’d looked at with disdain over the past hour, and he wanted to strangle someone. “The colour of the food hasn’t been an issue on any of the dishes has it?”

She gave him a look as if he was crazy. “Of course it has. Now the Yorkshire puddings worked well enough, they had a golden look about them and the red of the rare beef was a nice nod. Half of the hors d'oeuvres didn’t have a hint of burgundy or gold in them though. Honestly, I’m appalled at the appearance of your dishes.”

He was glad he wasn’t the only one that seemed tense, Roxy’s jaw setting. “I beg your pardon ma’am, we were unaware that you would want your food to be in matching colours. Of course there are things we can do, natural food dyes. I think we could add in a bit of beet juice or powder without altering the taste of the mousse too much.”

The woman sniffed and Eggsy forced himself to stay silent. This was for the job. A well paying job. A couple of years ago he’d have blurted out exactly what was on his mind, but he was past that now. He wasn’t a fucking child anymore. 

“Well, I don’t see how we can fully make a decision without seeing the results. Lets have another tasting in a week. I’m not coming all the way down here again,” she sneered, face pinched as she glanced around.

“They know where my house is,” Lady Hesketh offered. “We’ll expect you at 2:00 again next Wednesday.”

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” Roxy said, managing to sound far more apologetic than he ever would have been able to, “we have a dinner party that evening we’ll be preparing for. I can work you in on Tuesday next week?”

There was a great deal of hushed whispers between the mothers and a disapproving glance or two tossed in for good measure before they finally spoke. “It will need to be 3:00, and we’ll want to try the lamb that you recommended. Come on now Olivia, it’s time for us to leave.”

They swept out of the place like they owned it, Roxy showing them to the door while he started to gather up the used dishes, not even glancing up when she returned.

“Do we really need their fucking business?”

“Unfortunately it could be disastrous for us to turn them away now. Good call on figuring out that colour issue though.” 

“Hey Rox? Do me a favour?”

“Yeah?” She took a stack of dishes from him and started loading up the dishwasher seeing as they actually had enough for a full load today.

“Don’t take any more jobs from people named Hesketh.”

“Deal. And don’t worry, we’re taking a taxi next week and I’m including the charge on their bill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Forgot to add recipe things!
> 
> Salmon mousse: http://www.abeautifulmess.com/2013/07/easy-appetizer-salmon-mousse.html  
> Mushroom tartlets: http://www.annies-eats.com/2013/07/24/mushroom-tartlets-with-garlic-herb-cheese/  
> Mini yorkshire puddings: http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/miniyorkshirepudding_11253


	5. Avec Des Glaçons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am trying to finish this up before I leave on Friday! I just need to finish writing chapter 6 :

It would have been one thing if they’d only had a second tasting.

A fourth was ridiculous.

Their food was good, and after they scheduled them yet again he’d cooked half of the dishes at home, demanding that Harry try them and properly critique them. When he’d had only one small tweak to a make on a single dish (other than to raise an eyebrow at the dyed food) Eggsy knew the women were well and truly insane.

Or, as Harry pointed out, they might just be trying to get them to cook for them each week.

Not that he could really blame them for that. His food was amazing, but after making the same dish three weeks in a row because their clients were insane he was ready to move onto something new. If it hadn’t been for their other jobs reaffirming their decision every weekend he probably would have just thrown in the towel by now. At least on this job. 

As he worked he had to keep reminding himself what was at stake, what they stood to gain if they only got past these fabricated issues.

He’d already told Roxy they were never taking a job from either of the two families again and she’d wholeheartedly agreed, so really it was just a matter of perseverance now. Well, perseverance and going to the gym to combat all the stress-eating that was becoming a side-effect of this fucking wedding.

\------------

“I didn’t change anything in one of the dishes,” Roxy admitted suddenly while they were in the back seat of the cab. “I made it exactly the same as I did last week, I didn’t even change the colour. Want to bet that they don’t even notice?”

“I ain’t losing a tenner over that.” He raised his eyebrows at her and watched her try (and fail) to conceal a smirk. “Hey, you got anyone lined up to help us out?”

“Better than that actually. Merlin decided it would be good experience for his customer relations course he’s running that month and he’s going to give them the option of working for us or busing tables at one of the other Kingsman restaurants. You know they’ll mostly choose food prep over busing tables. Plus there’s a prerequisite that you’ve been through the basic course before you can take that one so we won’t get anyone utterly clueless.”

“It amazes me what people pay to do,” was all he could think of. Seriously, Kingsman wasn’t cheap, and he could imagine the looks some people would give when they found out part of their course was prepping dishes at a wedding and possibly taking hors d’oeuvres around on trays.

For a brief moment he let himself imagine Charlie and his little group in that situation and grinned.

The cab pulled over and Roxy paid the man while he got out, a cooler in one hand, a still-warm covered dish in the other. 

“This is the last fucking time I ever want to come here.” He had muttered under his breath but he knew she could hear him perfectly well. 

“Trust me, this is the last time we’re coming. I’ll issue ultimatums if I have to, it’s too late for them to find anyone else anyway.”

They rang the bell and waited for the door to be opened, and as soon as he was in he headed to the kitchen. The fact that he knew where it was was telling, and he hated himself just a little as he started to prepare the final touches for the dishes. Their system was a good one though, Roxy going over the niceties that would have made him want to strangle their client and him reheating and plating up their dishes for a proper presentation.

He managed to grab several plates at once, carefully balancing what he could before nudging open the door with his foot and making his way toward the parlor, because of course they couldn’t just sit in the bloody dining room.

His focus was solely on the food, running a critical eye over it to make sure everything appeared to be perfect, and he almost missed Charlie until they were just about to pass each other in the corridor. He glanced over but forced himself to stay quiet, trying his best to ignore him.

That was a mistake. 

If he’d been paying attention there was at least a slight chance he’d have noticed the light in Charlie’s eye or the smirk playing across his lips. Perhaps he would have seen the way his path veered before it was too late, before the taller man’s shoulder was colliding with his, knocking his arm aside and shoving him against the wall.

There was the crash of a plate falling, sauce and food splattering across the floor, his hands clutching plates with next to nothing on them, their contents laying ruined before him.

Then he heard the snicker.

“You fucking did that on purpose,” his voice was raised as he turned, not quite a shout but loud enough to fill the hallway.

“Oh dear, look how clumsy you are. I’d have thought you had plenty of practice serving people by now, but you’ve just gone and spilled it all on the floor.”

There was that sneer in his voice that was perpetually present when he spoke, and it grated on Eggsy’s nerves. This fucking family. 

“You’re a fucking wanker. You is just upset you ain’t got no talent. Ain’t got nothing on your own.”

“Watch it, Eggsy.” Charlie’s voice had gone icy but he was warming to the idea, frustration loosening his tongue.

“Or what, you’ll get your mum to fire us? Still making mummy do your dirty work?”

There was the creak of a door opening down the hall but he paid it no mind, smirking as Charlie glowered. 

“I heard what you did. You seduced Chef Hart. You slept your way through your classes.”

He tensed, fists clenching, fury coursing through him. “Don’t you fucking say a word against him.”

“Why not? Do you honestly think you got into the advanced courses because of talent? A pleb like you? You can’t even come up with a decent menu for a wedding.”

“You bloody think that’s my problem? Take a look at your family, Charlie.” He put as much of a sneer as he could in the name, voice dripping with disdain.

“Eggsy! Charlie!” Roxy’s voice rang out, scolding and tense, and he glanced down guiltily, not wanting to look at her.

“I never,” came the voice behind her, full of affront, and when he looked up Lady Hesketh stood in the doorway looking constipated, more than likely her public version of angry.

There was a minute of charged silence, the weight of the conflict heavy in the air. Then she spoke again. “Remove yourself from my house immediately. Miss Morton you may gather your things before you go.”

A protest rose to the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it back, giving a terse nod and moving toward the door.

He made the mistake of glancing back when he was shutting the door and the smug look on Charlie’s face was enough to make his stomach churn.

\-----------

“I’m not entirely sure what to do,” Roxy admitted.

They hadn’t talked about it much, waiting until they were settled at a pub they’d been to a time or two. It was fairly empty, early enough in the day that there were just a few old codgers scattered about and a handful worn looking individuals staring into their drinks around the bar as if they’d find the secret to the universe if they just looked long enough.

“I’m fucking sorry,” he told the glass, watching the tiny bubbles rising in his beer, looking up to see Roxy shaking her head.

“Honestly? I’m glad.” She gave him a weak smile. “I think I was about to lose it myself. She asked if we could get burgundy blackberries. And it’s not a total loss. I mean, we learned a few lessons, I’ll charge her for the tastings and our time, and we’ll move on.”

“Yeah, but word’ll spread. She’s probably already called up half her posh friends.”

Unexpectedly Roxy grinned. “Oh, she certainly has not. Yes, we’d have gotten loads of publicity from her if it’d all went well, but now that it hasn’t her hands are tied too. I mean, letting on she’d fired her caterer less than a month before the event? That just shows how scrambled together everything must be, and people will nitpick the reception and make snide comments, even more than they’re already going to. Plus there’s always the fact that she’d have to let on who we were, and I’m sure most of her acquaintances have heard something about Charlie taking lessons at Kingsman. She’s probably spoken glowingly of Kingsman, and it’d be awkward to answer questions about that, and she probably will want to have complete control over a story rather than risking awkward questions. So yes, it’s bloody awful that we wasted so much time on this and we’ll barely get paid for our time, but it’s not the end of the world. We should probably be more focused on our smaller events anyway, they’re making a decent name for us and it’s something that the two of us can manage fairly well.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, and for a minute there was silence as they worked on their drinks, running their minds over the events of the afternoon. “Still shit how everything is all fucked up cause of Charlie. I thought I was rid of that wanker once and for all. Feel sorry for his sister too, it being her big day and all.”

There was a thought rising up and as much as he hated it he couldn’t ignore it. He looked up to meet Roxy’s eyes, seeing them widen before he’d even opened his mouth. “What’s the chance they’re going to find someone else this late?”

A resigned sigh filled the air. “Not good. Or at least, probably no one of quality.”

“Ain’t no accounting for family,” he pointed out, waiting a beat before adding, “we got to make this right, it’s her fucking wedding, yeah? Plus this is our business, Rox, and I got us into this mess. I should’ve been more careful around Charlie, we both know the shit he’s capable of. I ain’t going to let that bastard ruin something.”

“This is absurd, if they really need us that badly they could contact us.” She tossed back the rest of her drink and he just waited as she set down the glass with an exasperated sigh. “Shit like this is why I put up with you,” she pointed out, “but I don’t have a clue as to how we’re supposed to fix it.”


	6. À La Vôtre!

“So, we’re kind of fucked, yeah?” He wasn’t even surprised when all Harry did was take a drink of his tea, steam still rising into the air as he set the cup down. Harry could make split second decisions easily, and more often than not it’d be the best response, so the fact that he was taking a minute simply meant he considered it important and was trying to give the issue his full attention. He was grateful for that. He disliked the fact that they had to rely on someone else at all, wishing that just him and Roxy could take care of it all themselves, but it appeared that this was beyond their abilities at this particular moment.

“Not necessarily,” Harry finally murmured. “A shitty predicament to be sure, but nothing you can’t gloss over. The biggest issue is doing this in a way to allow Lady Hesketh to save face, and to think that everything is her own idea. Now then, you’re a chef. How do chef’s say they’re sorry?”

His mind flashed back to a few of their more intense moments, spats filled with heated words and furious glances, and the enormous breakfasts he normally woke up to the next day. At least, when it was more Harry’s fault. When it was more of his own fault he almost always found himself reaching for ingredients to Harry’s favourite dishes.

So he shrugged his shoulders. “With food. But I ain’t sure she’s going to let us back to bring her nothing. Roxy tried to call her and she wouldn’t pick up the bloody phone.”

“That is unfortunate,” Harry admitted, “but I doubt she’ll have the Kingsman number blocked. I’ll give her a call in the morning to invite her to dinner. We’ll meet at Kingsman for neutral ground,” he was clearly warming up to the idea as he spoke, and it was easy to believe that everything really would work out alright. “I’ll make it clear that we understand she no longer wishes to use our catering service but that it would be our pleasure to host her and Olivia for an evening.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“You and Roxy are part of Kingsman, professionally I have no qualms about making this overture for you.”

“And personally?”

“Personally I’d be happy to never meet the woman.” Eggsy didn’t try to hide his amusement and Harry simply tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement. “You haven’t exactly inspired me to want to make her acquaintance,” he added as a timer dinged in the kitchen, signalling that it was time to check on their dinner.

“You really don’t,” Eggsy assured him as he stood up to check on things. “Thanks though.”

\-----------

They really only had one shot at this, and so far it was going well. They’d managed to get Merlin to join them simply with the offer of free food, and with both him and Harry’s doting, Lady Hesketh was enjoying herself immensely.

Olivia was on her phone, so, if he had to guess, she was happy too.

They didn’t have a formal dining table at the school, but they were able to set up a couple of mobile stations and disguise it with a tablecloth and a few candles. It helped that he spent a decent portion of time running back and forth to check on their dinner and plate it up, with Roxy helping him serve it, and having Harry there helped steady him. Nothing overt, simply knowing that someone else cared enough to support them. 

And of course they went all out. A trio of tiny appetizers on the first plate, both soup and salad, a duo entrée of both swordfish and lamb, then a sorbet to cleanse the palate and finally a decadent chocolate cheesecake with a raspberry gel on the plate that was good enough that their guests would probably have licked it off the plate if they had been on their own.

“I must say,” Lady Hesketh spoke, making sure she had their undivided attention before continuing, “I almost didn’t accept your invitation. I was quite appalled by the behavior in my home the other day. I do accept your apology, and I hope that you both learn a valuable lesson from this.”

“Thank you, Lady Hesketh,” Roxy replied smoothly, quickly enough that Eggsy had a feeling she was trying to answer before he had a chance. “We are so grateful you took us up on our offer.”

Olivia looked up from her phone. “Some of the girls want to go out tonight, are we done here? We’re going to see them again in a couple of weeks.”

“No we are not,” the Lady said, a slightly pinched look on her face. “Don’t you remember, dear?”

“I want their food at my wedding,” Olivia insisted, and for the first time since they’d started working with the Hesketh’s, Eggsy saw her set her phone down.

“Darling, listen, you know--”

“It’s my day, Mum!” She looked crestfallen. “Their food is delicious, and I thought you wanted my day to be perfect.”

“Of course! Oh darling, don’t be upset. I’m sure they’ll still cater your wedding.” She looked up at them expectantly and Roxy did a remarkable job of looking shocked before trying to compose herself, making sure she radiated both surprise and gratefulness.

“Anything for you, Lady Hesketh. We’d be honoured.”

\----------

Chaos. That was one way to describe this reception. The rehearsal dinner had been practically subdued compared to this, and now they were all shoved into a fairly small preparation area (all things considered) and there were people traveling to and fro to pick up loaded trays and deliver empty ones within what felt like seconds. 

“We’re almost out of salmon mousse,” Harry informed him briskly, and Eggsy had to smile at the fact that Harry was actually there plating up appetizers as well. Obviously the extra pair of hands helped, but he had the ability, by his presence alone, to make the other students they’d managed to coerce into helping them work harder. No one wanted to be seen slacking in front of Chef Hart.

Even better were the looks they gave him any time he had to snap an order at Harry, looks that suggested he was a dead man walking, and then the looks of absolute confusion that followed when Harry did just as requested without saying a word.

It was helping his street cred immensely, and all Roxy did was roll her eyes at him. 

“The trays are taking a bit longer to come back empty,” Roxy remarked, gesturing over to where there were some trays actually waiting on servers rather than the other way about. “I’ve just plated the last of the lamb lollipops though, so when those are gone they’re done.”

Fifteen minutes or so later was when it noticeably slowed down, people working more to start packing up as they used up their ingredients or because there were still several trays made up that didn’t look likely to be used. Roxy took over directing most of the students, letting a few start to leave when their stations were packed up and put away, and as the evening wound to a close he found himself at the entrance of their prepping area, watching the crowd disperse with Roxy.

“Did you see Olivia earlier? She looked gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we went through with this. Didn’t let Charlie fucking ruin it or nothing.”

“You know I’m never accepting anything this big again right? And I’m starting to think about running a background check on potential clients to make sure they’re not completely insane.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, I ain’t never fucking having a burgundy and gold wedding.”

“That’s a shame,” he turned to see Harry’s eyes dancing with mischief. “I rather enjoy burgundy and gold.”

“Still ain’t happening, bruv. ‘Sides, pretty sure Dee’d insist on picking the colours.”

“Fair enough,” Harry admitted. “I just wanted to give you both my congratulations before heading back, I’m sure you’ll want to celebrate with this behind you.”

“You’ve got that right.” There was a surprising amount of emphasis in Roxy’s voice and she smiled sheepishly. “I really am ready to wash my hands of this. We came, we saw, we conquered. Let’s get out of here.”

\----------

They didn’t even bother going to a pub. After finishing cleaning up, transporting everything back to Kingsman, and putting all of that away, they were exhausted and just wound up back at Roxy’s flat. She’d changed into pyjamas almost immediately, lounging in a chair opposite of him with a plate of leftovers and a glass of wine. 

They weren’t even really talking, both just sitting there eating lazily, and that was fine by him. Her phone buzzed and she checked it, smiling a bit at the message. “Alastair--Chef MacIntosh just sent me a text telling us welcome to the club. Apparently it’s a trial by flambé to really be a Kingsman.”

“Rox, if that’s all it takes we were in the fucking club by the first meeting with Lady Hesketh.”

“God that’s so true.” She raised her glass. “To never having to see them again.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he muttered, raising his glass in response and then taking a long draught.

“So, I don’t suppose this would be a good time to remind you we have a brunch scheduled for in the morning?” She managed to sound almost conversational as he glared at her. “What, I had it scheduled before we got this job!”

She was still laughing when he threw one of her decorative pillows at her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me on this ride. With this I'm going to call La Cuisine complete. Not to say I won't ever come back and write a ficlet, but I'm making no promises as I seem to be rather bad about actually going back and writing more in aus. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! And for all the support QQ <3 You guys are the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Just to further explain. I was trying to imagine Eggsy as a chef and I just kept thinking about the crazy hours chefs devote. Pretty much early morning to fairly late at night normally 6 days a week if the restaurant is closed one night a week. I just couldn't see him really wanting that with his family being a huge motivator for him. Catering lets him have a bit more control over his schedule, most would be during the weekend when his mum would be around more for Dee, and they could always turn down a job if they felt like they were getting burnt out. He'd still be able to be creative, and after some experience I could see him becoming a teacher for Kingsman as well.


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